


Decomposure (FitzSimmons/Agent's of S.H.I.E.L.D AU)

by Fritzen_lcaos



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, Agent's of S.H.I.E.L.D, Agent's of S.H.I.E.L.D AU, Daisy Johnson - Freeform, F/M, Grant Ward - Freeform, Jemma Simmons - Freeform, Leo Fitz - Freeform, Leopold Fitz - Freeform, Melinda May - Freeform, Philinda - Freeform, S.H.I.E.L.D - Freeform, Skye - Freeform, Skyeward - Freeform, Zombie, phil coulson - Freeform, zombies au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-14 15:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4569429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fritzen_lcaos/pseuds/Fritzen_lcaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <a href="http://s1322.photobucket.com/user/Elsie_Laufeyson/media/Decomposure%20Archive_zpsaezuuf9c.png.html"></a>
  <img/>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jemma Simmons was the perfect definition of composure. Her life, like a well thought out blue print, had all the details and fine print put in place.<br/>A perfect life, close friends and a steady job at the coolest lab in the world, what more could life offer her?<br/>The pieces were falling into place, without a single care about the future or what it held.<br/>That was before a fatal accident knocked her off her feet, an accident that left several coworkers severely injured. An accident she caused.<br/>Waking up some time later, she never felt more dead in her life. Her perfect life was spiraling out of her hands, the world on the brink of an apocalypse and some of her closest friends at the end of their rope.<br/>At the end of it all, Jemma had one severe condition she had to force herself to live with. Having brains meant more than being smart, and being part of the undead was not all the rage that it seemed to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hello hello everyone! My, it has been like a million years since I have written out an authors note. ;) I hope you all really like my story! I have wanted to do a Zombie!Jemma story for a while and I finally figured out how to make this dream..erm..nightmare? A reality. I hope you all enjoy! I know how this story is going to play out and I think you will like it! ;) Enjoy! -Star_Lorki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma Simmons has an active imagination. Before long, none of this will be imaginary.

Prologue

Yellow. Red. Orange.

It was the colors that flashed through the darkness that laid before her. Muffled in the distance was something screaming with a high, shrill ring to its voice. It was something foreign and strange, like a robot forcing itself to sound human.

Her eyebrows knit together, her eyes trying to readjust the darkness. Something was wrong, she just knew it. The way the scream echoed sent chills throughout her bones, causing her heart to race.

Her icy hands crossed over her heart, before pulling away when she realized that there was not even a heart beating beneath her chest. Such a thing was not humanly possible, it took a heart to pump blood, it took blood to keep her alive.

Forcing a shaky breath in, she nearly gagged at the rotten stench that entered her nostrils. Something rotten lurked in the air, leaving her stomach to churn deep inside. Her icy hand made its way to her nose, where she fought to keep her composure.

That was what she was all about, right?

Keeping her life perfectly composed, excelling at preparation and perfection. As she stood in the darkness, her hands colder than winter and a stench stronger than a sewer, she felt every single bit of composure slipping away.

She couldn't keep calm in a situation where she could not see her hand before her face, make sense of the colors flashing far ahead or the sound piercing her skull. No, the only thing she could do was feel lost and confused, like a scared little child that had gotten separated from her mother in a grocery store.

She bit her tongue, hoping to feel the familiar warmth and taste of iron filling her mouth. She tasted iron, but somehow she knew something wasn't right. The taste that filled her mouth felt stale and rotten, about as rotten as the air around her.

Her hand reached out to clutch a wall beside her, landing on something soft rather than hard. Quickly she pulled her hand away, something wet dripped from her hand. She could not make out the liquid that covered her hand, but she could already tell that whatever was on it was thicker and stickier than water.

She felt the contents of her stomach fight their way up her throat, she was for sure she was going to throw up on the unseen ground before her. Something beyond the darkness had stopped her, ringing out louder than the shrill alarm. It was warmer, more alive than anything she felt in this long and dark prison. Its tone was coated heavily in fear, as if it were dripping into her soul.

"JEMMA!"

It shook her out of her sickened trance, causing her heavy and almost lifeless heart to skip a beat, her hands clenching into fists at the sound of the familiar voice. She opened her mouth to call out, but nothing ever came up. It was like whatever evil spirit lied in this tunnel, it teased her.

"I'M COMING!" Her voice wanted to wail, but only her mind could think. In this moment of extreme chaos, words felt like a nonexistent thing. If she was going to figure out what was going on, she was going to have to let her actions speak louder than her words.

Budging from her spot, with her hands still clenched and her mind racing, she took off towards the direction the voice was coming from. Her feet carried her, surprisingly at a faster pace than she remembered before. It was like the panic in the voice charged her up, sending an adrenaline throughout her whole body. The closer she got, the louder the alarm rang and the brighter the light got.

Her surroundings became clearer, her pace picking up faster. It wasn't until the figure that had been calling for her came into view, and she skidded to a sudden stop. The picture that was laid out before her caused her hands to reach back up towards her mouth, where a startled gasp was the only thing that made it out.

A body laid on the ground before her, the faint sight of blood covering the floor. She recognized the body in an instant, it was the body of her best friend and coworker, Skye Johnson. Better yet, what was left of her. Her body had looked as if it had been mauled apart by a dog, her normally bright and cheerful brown eyes were wide and staring her down, cold and lifeless.

She expected the sight to repulse her, to bring tears or anger bubbling up to the surface. Instead, it dug up something much less expected. She felt hungry. The thought itself disgusted her, but it was quickly brushed aside when she turned her eyes to something else in the area.

A body laid beside her lifeless friend, another body just as dead as the first. The difference between this body was that it was the body of her friend Grant Ward, still intact, the only blood seen was lined around his mouth and a bullet wound in his head.

She quickly lowered her hands, puzzled and disturbed at the entire scene laid out before her. Everything about what she was seeing looked like a scene cut out from a horror film. Blood, death, the piercing of an alarm. She thought she was about to go mad from all the insanity she had seen before her, but a slight movement caught her before she could do anything else.

There in the midst of the blood, death and flickering lights stood a figure that was very much alive, very much real and safer than anything else in this entire hell. He stood in stiff shock, his hands trembling, his crystal blue eyes wide with fear. At first she thought it was the fear of everything he had just witnessed, but then it dawned on her.

He was in fear of her.

"F-Fitz?" It was the first word her voice had managed to choke out since she'd gotten done here, her voice raspy. His hands shaking, the gun slid from his hand and landed on the ground with a clack. He quickly raised his hands in surrender, fear flooding his eyes.

"Jemma, go. Run. Please, I am begging you." His voice and words were as panicked as his eyes, his hands continuing to tremble.

Knitting her eyebrows together, she took a step forward. "Fitz, what the hell is-" He took two steps back, his head shaking, his hands coming out before.

"Jemma, leave. Please, before they find you!"

None of this made sense, leaving Fitz here alone in a strange situation made even less sense. She opened her mouth again to speak, but the movement of something beside her caught her attention and her head turned.

Everything that stuck out as strange and bizarre to her, slipped away the moment she saw what was standing beside her. A full length mirror displayed a familiar face with a slight twist, like she was staring at herself in a funhouse mirror. Blood stained the front of her originally white blouse, some fresh and some dried. Her hand that touched the soft object was covered in the thick, sticky red substance.

Her lifeless heart yearning to race, her eyes made contact with the startled expression of the face before her, causing the world to spin to a stop. Dried blood was on the tips of her hair, some pieces sticking to her cheek. Blood dried around her lips, giving off the impression of makeup from a horror flick. The panic did not truly settle in until her eyes made contact with her own, it was then that she knew just what she was.

Silver eyes stared back, just as lifeless as the two people laid on the ground beside her and suddenly everything that was once confusing and foreign became crystal clear. Staring at her was was the bits and pieces of a girl she once knew, covered up and distorted by the monster she had now become.

A scream broke out from her lips, matching its tone with the shrill of the alarm that surrounded her. Fitz jumped startled, watching in horror as the panicked girl stumbled away from the mirror. Trembling as she went, she stumbled backwards until she tripped over something and it sent her sprawling to the hard ground. Another dead body, half gone and mutilated. It wasn't done by an animal or anything else, but by the one thing she least expected.

All the horror films her friends once teased her about being afraid had became a reality, contaminating everything she once considered normal.

Tears flooded her eyes, but nothing would come out. She laid on the ground beneath her, staring at the ceiling as the siren wailed around her, her screams blending in with it.

Jemma bolted up in her bed within an instant, gasping loudly. She found herself back in the comfort of her own safe bedroom. Familiar light purple walls surrounded her, covered in pictures, paintings and other decorations she used to brighten up her room.

Her legs were tangled in her blankets, her breath coming out in heavy puffs as she took in the light floating through her curtains, letting the nightmare play again before her eyes.

She took one look at herself in her full length mirror, relieved to see that her face and PJs were blood free, her eyes their usual hazel brown.

She released a heavy sigh, taking her fingers and roaming them through her chest length hair. Looking to her clock beside her, she realized that the shrill alarm ringing was her alarm clock going off, and that she had exactly twenty minutes to get herself ready and to work before she would be late.

Bolting out of bed, she raced into her closet to throw something on for the day. As she dug through her many choices of clothes, the nightmare entered her mind again and she shivered.

While it may have felt real, she knew one thing for sure: A). It was just a nightmare and B). She was never going to let Skye talk her into watching a zombie movie ever again.


	2. Of Love Lives & Prosciutto Sanwiches (Chapter One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma Simmons everyday work life before the accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This chapter is basically just a peek into what is a normal, every day life in Simmons life before the tragedy hits. I will have a few chapters before the actual tragedy, so that way you guys get a feel of how things were before they become contaminated.;) Enjoy! ~Star_Lorki

Jemma stifled a yawn, her rubber glove covered hand being careful not to make contact with her lips. Despite waking up way late, she managed to somehow make it to work five minutes before she was expected to clock herself in.

The great thing about her job was that she was not limited to a dress code or to dressing up, they could care less if she showed up dressed up as a circus clown with poofy hair. Pulling herself together, she threw on one of her traditional floral blouses and a pair of skinny jeans, her hair pulled up into a high ponytail. A small touch of makeup completed her entire look, for even the simplest of jobs could open up opportunities of attention from the opposite sex.

She rolled her eyes at that last thought, her hands picking up a couple of glass beakers and setting them aside.

It was thoughts and conversations like these that made her all the more weary about partaking in a relationship. Relationships required so much more work than movies and TV shows had lead on. It required searching, dating, sacrificing and lead to things like arguments, late nights and in some cases, lots of sex.

That was, if you were anything like her friend Skye.

She clicked her tongue with disapproval, forcing the sleep out of her eyes and placing her focus on her job. While her job may have not been the most glamorous job in the whole world, it best suited what she was all about. A college graduate with two PHD's deserved more than to be standing in one spot all day, flipping burgers while making minimum wage.

No, people with her kind of knowledge and experience deserved a higher ranking job that lined up with her needs. The Knowledge of Antidotes, K.O.A for short, was a scientific organization based upon finding cures for diseases that were more advanced than the technology and knowledge at their disposal. Under its belt was some of the smartest, most talented people you would ever meet.

The sound of a lab door slammed shut, startling her so much that it almost caused her to drop one of the glass beakers in her hands on the floor.

There were also some others in the K.O.A that did not carry the same amount of geniusness and talent that the other employees carried. They were known as the casualties, people who often caused more problems than good, and were left to clean up the messes.

Number one on that list had just strolled into the room, wearing a smile that hinted at nothing but mischief, and a shirt that literally read trouble. Trouble's brown, curly locks tumbled over her shoulders, swaying with each and every step she took. Jemma knew she should not have made eye contact with the girl, but one wrong move and Trouble was headed in a beeline straight for her.

"Oh bloody, look at what the Devil dragged in.." Her British accent quipped, hardly looking up from her project before her.

Trouble squared her jaw, failing at an attempt to hold back a smirk. "I could say the same about you, Tea Bags."

Jemma rolled her eyes, placing the beakers in their holding trays.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Skye." She spat out, putting emphasis on her friend's name.

Skye pulled up a stool from a different lab table, a scraping noise filling the room as plopped down into it. It took every ounce of strength for her to keep from glaring darkly at her noisy, obnoxious friend.

"I'm talking the whole dead look in your face, like you haven't slept in a month!" Skye laced her fingers together, ready to place her chin on her hands when suddenly she slammed them down on the countertop, causing Jemma to jump.

"Oh my, did you get laid?!"

Jemma choked on her own saliva, knocking a row of glass beakers over. She cursed softly under her breath, trying to compose herself after that failure of a response.

"What do you take me for? No, if you have not kept note of the thousands of times I told you before, I simply don't have time for relationships, let alone, fraternization with them."

Skye's eyebrows waggled, as a grin spread across her glowing face.

"You act like sex is a bad thing."

"Premarital sex is, according to the orphanage you were once apart of, they considered that a sin."

Skye rolled her eyes, groaning inwardly at her comment. "If you want to live like a Nun, then fine. I won't stop you. Just don't come crying to me when your ovaries explode from lack of sexual interaction."

Simmons face flushed, but she kept her lips pressed tight. She would not give in anymore to Skye's childish pestering, for she knew the more that tried to deny it, the more Skye would tease her.

"So, how is Ward?" She was quick to change the subject, knowing that Skye would quickly take any chance to talk about her boyfriend.

Skye's expression suddenly changed, her eyes lighting up and her smile widening. Jemma had her now.

"Extremely good, did you know that he got into the Academy?" Skye asked her, her voice filled with excitement. Jemma had no idea what the "Academy" was, and from recent conversations, Skye had no idea either. Her boyfriend was pretty hushed about, saying that it was military grade levels of secrets and situations he was getting drawn into. She had her doubts about the idea, but regardless she was in complete support of her friend and her boyfriend.

"Really?" She responded, looking up with a smile on her face. Skye responded with a nod, her fingers tracing the patterns on the countertop before her.

"Really. Like, the moment Ward found out, he was ecstatic. Like, none of us got sleep that night-" Jemma groaned disgusted, making a face. "Skye, no one wants to know about what goes on behind closed doors in your bedroom."

Skye stuck out her tongue, like a two year old angry at their mother for scolding them for no reason.

"I'll have you know, I've been very apt in helping you enhance your sex life." "By enhance, you mean setting me up on blind dates with men I don't even know." "That's the ENTIRE point of a blind date!"

Jemma set her beakers down, locking eyes with her stubborn best friend. "The last blind date you set me up on, the guy was more concerned with talking about his taxidermy job than he was at trying to get to know me."

Skye tried her best at covering up a smirk, but it failed miserably and left Jemma staring at her with an irritated glance. Skye shrugged quickly, raising her hands in surrender.

"Oh, come on. How could I have known the guy was a total loser?" Jemma ignored her friend, taking off her gloves and turning to begin on a different project.

Skye followed after Jemma, not ready to let this conversation end. "I mean, I have tried talking you into setting up a date with Fitz, but for some reason you seem one hundred percent against that."

Jemma stopped mid project, her eyes widening and her ears flushing red. Leopold Fitz, that was a name she heard everyday. They had been best friends since their freshman year of college, inseparable in every way imaginable. While she excelled in Biochemistry, and he in Engineering, they found themselves working together better than apart.

Skye always thought she saw some sort of special connection between them, something beyond the whole brother and sister thing that she argued was the only relationship that would ever be allowed in between them. Like the good friend Skye was, she wasn't about to let this thought slide.

"Haven't I told you that we are just friends?"

Skye raised her eyebrows, giving Jemma a look of of complete disbelief.

"Just friends as in buddies that go do lame things with one another, or like the Natalie Portman and Ashton Kutcher kind of friends, the kind of friendship where no strings are attached..?"

Jemma swung around, her eyes wide in horror. "Skye!" she wailed, her voice unnaturally high.

Skye let out a laugh, shaking her head in the process. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Gees! But no, seriously. You two are like Bonnie and Clyde, but nerdier. Have you ever thought about giving one another a chance?"

Jemma opened her mouth to respond, but the doors swinging open caught her attention again, her eyes making contact with the next figure to make its way in.

The moment her eyes landed on him was the moment her heart began to flip flop, leaving her face to flush as red as her ears. He came dressed in usual mismatched shirt and tie, his lab coat a wrinkled mess. On top of his head was a messy set of curls, which followed down to his thin face, before locking her eyes onto his. She always liked his eyes, they were like looking into a cloudless blue sky, or a crystal blue ocean. One look and any tense or stressing situation melted away in an instance.

He paused before the two of them, placing his hands on his back in what Skye liked to call his "pregnant lady stand". He locked eyes with Jemma, hardly addressing Skye standing right beside him.

"Lunch is in a few moments, just wondered if you wanted anything while I was out?" he asked, his voice heavily coated in a heavy Scottish accent. Jemma knew that this question was directed towards both Skye and her, but she somehow could not help but feel it was only meant for her.

"Why thank you, if you could I'd like a caesar chicken salad with low fat dressing."

He gave her a warm smile, one that subconsciously made her stomach flip flop. Skye, aware of everything snapped her fingers to get Fitz's attention.

"Helloooo, I'd like a cheeseburger. Make it a double, with extra cheese and grease." Skye smirked, as Jemma pretended to gag.

Fitz mentally took these items down, nodding as he looked at them. "I'll have them back here soon for you two. I'll swing by Ward's station to see what he wants. Just so you know, I will be getting the-" "Prosciutto and Buffalo Mozzarella sandwich with a hint of Pesto Aioli." Jemma and Skye finished in a perfect, in a not so surprised tone.

Fitz's eyes narrowed, as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You two, I swear. Bloody physics or something."

He turned and left, on a mission to return with their requested lunch items in one piece. Skye, a heavy smirk on her face, gave Jemma a knowing look.

Jemma pulled out another pair of rubber gloves, pulling them quickly onto her hands. "For the record, it wasn't a night of steamy intercourse that kept me up. It was you and your stupid zombie movies that gave me nightmares and therefore, ruined my sleep."

With a snap of her gloves, Jemma turned away from a snickering Skye, more than ready to return back to her job. As the day wore on, Jemma could not quite shake that there was something more to that nightmare than her exhausted mind made it out to be.


	3. It Is All Fun & Games..(Chapter Two)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello Hello! I am so, so sorry this took so much longer to write! I have been a mixture between exhausted, ill and over stressed. This is kind of a fluff chapter, a little insight to what FitzSimmons do on a regular basis. I am sorry if it isn't the greatest chapter in the word, but hey, it is a chapter am I right? ;) Enjoy!   
> -StarLorki

Work was long and tedious, as usual. But Jemma could not complain, especially since she was helping find ways to cure people from life threatening diseases.

You would think that alone would be the best part of her job, but it wasn't. Work carried more than just a duty for helping others, a few dollars in her bank account every month. It provided an excuse to interact with others, to make relationships that she wouldn't have made on her own.

If it wasn't for that job, she wouldn't have met the outgoing, crazy and wild Skye Johnson and her boyfriend, who was driven, quiet and reserved. They were her friends, but they were not her only friends.

No, in fact the closest person in her life happened to be the one that stuck with her throughout college. He had been with her through thick, thin, he had been there through her greatest moments and her hardest downfalls. He held her while she cried and hugged her while she cheered.

They were exactly what Skye had said, the Bonnie and Clyde of this century. No matter what one did, the other would follow.

Jemma sat in her quiet apartment, setting up a game of Apples-to-Apples. It was Tuesday night, which she considered to be like her Friday. While most people, like her friend Skye, would go out to clubs, get drunk and get with other people, while she found herself spending her evening playing a game, overdosing on cream soda and laughing at the ridiculous things they laid out.

Her partner in crime on this eventful night was none other than Leopold Fitz, the mismatched sandwich loving man you met earlier.

If there was a definition for a perfect friendship, these two were it. Squabbling over what was considered the Best Doctor Who episode, sticking together even through the hardest of times, it was what made them so perfect together.

Not Skye's definition of together, either. No, they would never dare touch that, it would damage what was already sacred and true.

Jemma bit her lower lip, staring at her game night set up before her. At least, friendship was what she had always considered to be the best thing for those two, but thinking about Skye's desperate attempts to hook them up had her wondering taking things a small step forward.

Like, what would it be like, to hold his hand while taking a leisure stroll through the park? Fingers intertwined, leaning upon each other like they needed help standing up. The thought made her stomach flutter, as she pictured simple dates like staring at the stars, naming constellations while cuddled together.

Her exhausted mind dared her to head further down this dangerous thought process, but the sound of someone knocking on her door brought her back to reality.

Her face flushing, she shook her head wildly as if to shake the insane thoughts out of her head. Such a process was not available to her, even if there was a guy around.  
No, her work her full attention. Fraternization and late nights would prove to be unhealthy, possibly even dangerous. One wrong move, she could risk blowing up everything.

Pushing herself to her feet, she listened as her sock covered feet padded across her hardwood floor. She did her best to make sure her face wasn't too flushed, tightening her ponytail before opening the door to face her visitor.

He stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his thin frame swaying as he rocked back and forth on his feet. His clothes had changed, but nonetheless they were his signature mismatched tie and button down shirt. His bright blue eyes made contact with her brown ones, making her face feel as if it was heating up. Averting her eyes to a DVD case tucked under his arm, she cleared her throat slightly as a way to cover up her strange behavior.

"Fitz, you made it!" She mentally cursed herself for sounding so breathless.

He clearly did not notice, for he nodded, a smile spreading on his thin, handsome face. "Yeah, yeah I did. I even brought a movie for us to watch." He pulled the case out from under his arm, waving it before her.

"Blade Runner?" she read, wrinkling her nose slightly.

He nodded, without noticing her unenthusiastic tone.

"Yeah, you know, in the event that the game becomes too boring." he grinned, letting himself into her apartment.

She was so dumbfounded by his grin that she didn't even realize that he had stopped abruptly in the middle of the room and stared at her game set up.

"Jemma?"

"Mmmmm?" she drawled out, shaking her head and shutting the door. "You realize that Apples-to-Apples is a four player game, right?"

Normal Jemma would curse herself out and face palm as well. Smittened Jemma, however, let her face flush fifty shades of red before rushing into the room.

"Oh bloody, Fitz I am so sorry! My mind hasn't been completely with it today." she shoved her set up back into its box, barely making eye contact with him.

Fitz blinked, a bit startled at her reaction.

"Tis okay, Jemma. How about we just watch the movie for tonight?"

She felt a slight sigh of relief escape her lips, grateful that she did not to drag out a new game.

Fitz sat the movie up, while she grabbed snacks from the kitchen. By the time they had settled down on the floor, legs stretched out and shoulders against one another's, the movie had began playing.

While she wasn't found of the inaccuracy there was to the way the 21st century was displayed, she admitted that she quite enjoyed the unique display of science that was mentioned in this movie. For a movie made in the 80's, there was an absolute flawlessness in CGI and quality of film.

Plus, who didn't enjoy watching a young Harrison Ford kick ass?

They had made it to the part where Deckard had killed Pris, something about the way the bioengineered replicant thrashed around like a two year old that did not get her way made Jemma's skin crawl, causing her to shiver. It made her think back to her nightmare, watching herself as she laid on the ground screaming, her wails loud enough to make glass shatter.

Fitz, quick to notice Jemma's wide eyes, gingerly placed his arm around her and pulled her close. This sent a chill up her arm, forcing her to keep from shivering again. The gentle way his thumb rubbed against her arm sent a warm sensation throughout her skin, she bit her tongue hard to keep from sighing.

"You look tired," he admitted, tilting his head to the side. He looked like a concerned puppy, cute and willing to help her in anyway he can.

She rubbed her eyes, yawning as she nodded her head. "I didn't sleep very well last night." She left it at that, not wanting to go into any details. She didn't think she could handling rehashing her second greatest nightmare out to her best friend.

Automatically Fitz frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "You and your sleep, I tell ya. It is that mind of yours, so much going on that it doesn't allow you to rest."

She started to protest, but Fitz used his hand to bring her head into his shoulder. He smelled like a fresh shower and fresh air, which was better than the musky Axe spray Ward had loaned him one time. As instantly as she cradled her head in his shoulder, her eyes began to grow heavy.

As the movie played before them, she took one more peek up at Fitz's face, fascinated by the way the TV illuminated his face. In this light, it left him looking mysterious and stern, as he concentrated on the ending before him.

His expression brought butterflies to her stomach, and she let them flutter, allowing the TV and Fitz's gentle warmth to lull her into sleep.

As soon as her eyes had shut, she came face-to-face with a man she did not recognize, nearly causing her to yelp. She tried to move back, but her feet wouldn't budge. It was as if someone had nailed her toes, the soles of her shoes, to the ground.

She whimpered, but not a single sound left her lips. Whatever person that glued her to her place had also sealed her mouth shut, not even allowing a single groan to escape.

Frantic, she struggled to break loose of whatever bound the frightening looking man had on her, but nothing worked. She looked at him with startled eyes, her slow, almost lifeless heart yearning to beat against her rib cage.

The man, a middle aged slightly balding with a stern face kind of guy paced the floor, only looking up every once in a while. Together, they both stood in a small, metal room that resembled a horrible attempt a office in a ship that sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

The man paced for quite some time after that, before finally a metal door creaked open across the room. An unfamiliar man, young and handsome, with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes stared at, through, her. The young man looked nervous, his fingers drumming on the door and he made eye contact with the middle aged man across the room.

"M-Mister Garrett, sir?" the younger man stuttered, his body stiff with nerves.

The other man, Garrett, looked irritably at the younger man. "You better have some damn good news, Casey, or you'll regret showing your face in my office."

Casey gulped, the speed of his drumming fingers increased.

"W-We found her, sir. The asset. She's alive."

With a snap of her unmoving fingers, this mister Garrett's face shifted from a murderous glare, to look of sudden surprise. Whoever this asset was, she must have been an important factor to this Garrett's moody attitude.

Placing his hands together, he looked to the ceiling with a relieved expression, as if he were thanking God above for this news.

"Where is she?" he asked, his voice softer than before.

Casey, eyes blinking rapidly, pulled out a folder with the words: "CONFIDENTIAL" printed in bold letters, and flipped through the pages.

"Born 1987, she is a college graduate with Two PHD's and has studied-" "I said: where in the hell is she?!" Garrett growled, his fists clenching. The other man jumped, nearly spilling the contents of the folder everywhere.

Shaking slightly, he spoke in a soft voice that she could hardly make out: "S-Shield has her."

From being calm before, to suddenly his face turning red, this Garrett face the metal wall beside him and used his fist to pound against it. An unpleasant bang echoed through the room, leaving everyone to stand in silence.

She watched as Garrett worked hard to control his rage, the vein on his temple bulging slightly. She forced a swallow down, as the man pulled himself away from the wall.

"Leave it to the damn feds to their hands on someone of this level of danger before everyone else. And S.H.I.E.L.D, too. Those black suited monkeys have their noses in every damn book out there!"

He ran his hands over his face, turning back to face the nervous Casey in the doorway.

"You will find a way, Casey. Find a way to get into this S.H.I.E.L.D, even if it means risking your life, I want you to find me this asset, this Jemma Simmons and if anyone so much as stands in the way.." he lowered his voice, leaving her mind to race.

She, she was the asset? Who were these people and what had she done to get on their shit list?

Garrett left his spot, walked towards Casey and left only a couple inches apart between them. Watching with wide eyes, she stared as the man raised his finger, causing Casey to flinch. These next words caused her heart to sink.

"..I want you to put a bullet through their thick, numb skulls and I want you to bring her to me."

Jemma's head bolted up, from the warmth and comfort of where her head had laid in Fitz's lap, gasping heavily as she awoke. Her eyes adjusted to the dark area that was her apartment living room, the TV still lit with the movies DVD menu.

Her hand made its way to her chest, where she was relieved to see that her heart was still beating, while her other hand brushed her hair back.

Sweat covered her face, mixed with what she was sure was tears. She had no idea if her nightmare had any connection to the one before, or if in anyway the movie she just watched had influenced it in any way.

All she knew was that in every way it was eerie, frightening and that it had felt real. Whoever those men were, she was nothing but an asset to, and that if anyone stood in her way they'd die defending her.

She placed a hand over her mouth, trying to regain her composure as she looked around the room. Fitz was in the same position as he had been when she had fallen asleep, only difference was that he too, was asleep.

Unlike her in this moment, his face looked peaceful and relaxed, his chest slowly rising and falling with each breath he took. Still trembling in her place, she allowed herself to get fixated on him sleeping, letting the sound of his breaths bring her back to calm.

Once she was chilled enough, she laid her head on his shoulder, cradling her head into the crook of his neck. Just the scent, the warmth and the consciousness of Fitz being beside her made her mind rest at ease, grateful that what she witnessed was nothing but a figment of her own wild imagination.

She replayed the scene, over and over through her head. What if something like that were real, and everyone she loved and that stood between those freaky men was killed before her very eyes?

She took one last look at Fitz, his peaceful face once again putting her mind at ease.

Nothing like that would ever happen, what would two men like Garrett and Casey want with her anyways?

Situating herself, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax, falling asleep to the sound of Fitz's pleasant breaths, and this Garrett's angry voice playing through her head.


	4. Curing Hunger(Chapter Three)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This is an abnormal direction I am taking with this story, a bit crazy, I imagine, but I needed a new way to bring the zombie disease into play in a way that no one has ever done before. I hope that even if it is insane that nonetheless you all still enjoy it! :) Enjoy!   
> -StarLorki

"Are you alright?"

Jemma jumped suddenly, dropping the glass beaker she was holding in her hand onto the floor. She cursed silently under her breath, looking at the shattered mess that now laid on the floor.

Normally it was the casualties that caused messes like this, not careful and skilled people like her. She averted her eyes to the being that startled her, not surprised at who stood before her.

"Skye really, you know better than to scare a person like that." It came out harsher than she had intended, but after the night she just had she wasn't for sure if kindness even existed in her.

Skye squared her jaw, her eyes twinkling with mischief. Of course Skye would find pleasure in her misery. It was just the way she was.

Placing her hands on her hips, she tilted her head so that her curly hair, pulled up high in a ponytail, swayed slightly.

"Don't tell me that you're still freaking out over the zombie movie I made you watch?"

She rolled her eyes, stooping down to clean up her mess. "Hardly, Fitz made me watch 'The Blade Runner' last night. I think between that and all the snacks, it messed with my head."

Skye smirked knowingly, leaning forward on her lab counter. Jemma should have known that with a look like that, Skye knew something she didn't want her to know.

"I heard that you two slept together, how was that?"

It was as if the room had heated up an extra twenty degrees, for she was now squirming beneath her lab coat, her ears turning bright red.

"Oh bloody, Skye, we just fell asleep watching the movie." "Right, because best friends of the opposite sex totally do that.."

Dropping the broken glass in the trash can beside her, Jemma faced her friend, her eyes burning from irritation and lack of sleep.

"You know Skye, I've just about had it with your lack of respect for-"

At that moment the door slammed shut to the lab, causing her head to turn eagerly towards the door. It was like a dog waiting for its owner to return, Jemma was hoping it would be Fitz swinging by to get her lunch order.

What she saw made the hairs on the back of her neck rise, her skin crawl. Her eyes widened slightly, her jaw clenching with nerves.

A familiar, young man with blonde hair and blue eyes made his way towards her, his eyes darting around nervously as he walked.

Casey.

He looked just as nervous as he had in her dream last night, but she was more focused on that fact that Casey wasn't a figment of her own restless mind. It is said that every person you see in your dreams is a face you've seen somewhere and sometime in your life before, but she wasn't entirely sure about the truth behind that myth.

Fingers tapping, eyes blinking rapidly, he stopped before her lab table. "J-Jemma Simmons?" The voice and stutter even matched the man in her dream.

"Who is asking?" she was surprised yet again at the way her tone came out towards him. Skye looked at her in surprise, as the man swallowed hard.

"Mel told me to give this to you, she said it was of top priority."

He placed a folder on her lab counter, slid it towards her with a slight flick of his fingers. She was afraid to pick it up, but with Skye and the man watching her, she forced herself to pick up the folder.

She lifted her head to thank the young man, but he no longer was standing there. The only thing near her was Skye, who was staring at her with her eyebrows knitted together.

"What was that about?" she asked, quickly eyeballing the folder in her hands.

Jemma swallowed, her fingers tightening on the hard paper.

"I-I'm not entirely for sure."

Skye clicked her tongue, tapping her fingers roughly on the folder.

"Well? Open it and find out!"

To shut her friends mouth, she flipped over the folder and opened it to a series of images and papers. Her stomach churned uneasily, her face turning green. Dismembered pieces of a person's body was in each and every single photo, looking as if a wild animal had ripped into them.

Bold print quickly caught her attention, quickly answering her question to the graphic and bloody pictures before her:

Wendigo psychosis.

"What the hell.."

It took her a moment to realize that the voice did not belong to her, but to Skye, who was standing behind her and looking over her shoulder.

Jemma quickly slammed the folder shut, turning to face her friend.

"This has to be some sort of bloody prank!" she cried, her face still slightly green.

As if being threatened, Skye raised her arms defensively, shaking her head.

"I have nothing to do with this, I can't even access files to the common cold. This is coming from a once hacker."

It was true, just like she could come up or heal someone in a matter of seconds, Skye could easily hack the most heavily guarded secrets that were out there. Hell, if she wanted to she could easily locate something as long lost as the missing Watergate tapes or as well hidden as the president's location.

The only reason she could not hack something at the K.O.A was because they kept all their research and records in basic folders, papers and photos - old fashion and hard to find. The security on their base was about like breaking into Azkaban.

"Cannibalism isn't a disease, it's hardly an illness!" "It's mental, that's what it is." Skye tapped her temple, implying that whoever dealt with such a thing clearly had a mind problem.

She looked at the door, in the direction the man that gave her the folder had come from. Her eyes were narrowed and her mind was racing. There was only one thing she could possibly do in a situation like this.

"I'm going to talk to Mel."

It was as if she told Skye she was going to walk to the edge of a bridge and jump off of it, for her friends eyes widened and her head began to shake immediately.

"Are you crazy?! No one questions Mel, not even the higher ups above her! She will karate kid your ass into the next century!"

Jemma rolled her eyes, but Skye wasn't that far off base. Their boss was like some sort of ex military soldier, with thick skin, a stubborn mindset and a very, very intimidating presence. She could probably scare someone as tough as Chuck Norris, if she wanted to.

Despite Skye's protests, Jemma found herself sitting in a large, comfortable seat in front of the desk for K.O.A's leader, the unnerving folder in her lap. She watched with a nervous anticipation, as her boss, a short, black haired Asian woman talked aggressively in a different to a person on the phone.

As she sat listening to the woman going on, she felt her stomach clench with fear. Skye was right to warn her, coming to her boss to tell her she wasn't going to listen to orders was the dumbest idea she ever came up with.

The woman slammed her phone down with a swift, angry-like motion, causing Jemma to nearly jump out of her skin. A very unpleasant curse came out of her lips, before they pressed themselves into a tight line.

A lump formed in Jemma's throat, suddenly regretting setting foot into this office. The cold, bitterness that this person gave off sank into her bones like a terrible pain, leaving her to gnaw at her tongue.

This was such a dumbass idea.

"Is something wrong, Simmons?" The woman's voice came out, much softer than when she was on the phone, but hard enough that it made her nervous as hell.

Unable to make eye contact with the woman, she averted her eyes to the desk plaque that belonged to her boss. "Melinda May". It sounded like the name of a sweet, kind and fun person. Her boss was anything but that.

Taking a deep breath, she blurted it out quickly and loud: "There is no such thing as a cure for cannibalism!"

She wasn't even entirely sure if she had said it or thought it, but given the surprised look on Mel's face, she was pretty sure she had said it aloud. Shit.

"I-I mean, cannibalism isn't really the type of disease we deal with, it's not even really a disease so much as a-" "It is a disease, Simmons." Mel harshly responded, leaning forward in her chair.

"It is a mental illness, an illness is like a disease. Everything has an antidote, just like every puzzle has its missing piece."

Jemma felt her mind racing with all the things said wrong in this sentence, starting with antidote(anti-serum, mind you!). She began to wonder if there was any intelligence in this entire place at all.

"Mel," she began, but Mel had quickly cut her off. "Please, call me Meilinda."

She gritted her teeth, her fingernails digging into her palm. After this conversation, she was going to have to go home and take a relaxing bath.

"Melinda," sarcasm dripped from her voice, heavy and oozy like honey. "Forgive me for saying this, but even the great Albert Einstein would find you crazy for wanting to dig into something this far. It is impossible, it can't be done."

Her words came out in such a rush, as if she were racing against the clock to get her words out before the timer went off. Breathing in, she lowered her head to stare at her lap, before finishing her sentence: "I can't do it."

Melinda's eyebrows shot up, a look of surprise covering her face. Her posture immediately changed, the expression she gave her employee was nothing she gave anyone else before.

"Can't, or won't?"

This question caused Jemma's blood to boil, as she looked up at her boss with angry eyes.

"It's insane, Melinda! It's like, chasing after fairy tales and pixies, like believing in things as crazy as the Loch Ness Monster! Like believing in curing things lust and guilt, happiness and fear." she trembled slightly, her lack of rest seeping through her words.

"You can't cure feelings."

Lips pursed, Melinda's fingers intertwined together. Somehow she knew she was about to get lectured, like a mother would do to her daughter.

"When was the last time you slept, Simmons?"

Mouth agape, Jemma merely blinked at the woman, unable to think up a valid response. It was random, almost as if Melinda was intentionally trying to change the subject. Great.

"Why do you care? What does this have to do with anything?"

"Because I care about my employees, Jemma." It was the first time she heard someone other than Fitz had call her by her first name in a long time.

"If my employees aren't getting what they need, it leads to error in performance. Error in performance can lead to mistakes and mistakes can lead to problems, like illness, accidents or death."

Melinda's eyes were serious, unwavering, as they stared at Jemma. She swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. She wasn't used to being put on the spot in this way, but she wasn't used to being so flustered by anything ever before.

"Why me?"

It came out soft, like a whisper from a mouse.

Melinda sighed, keeping her eyes on the confused girl before her.

"Because I have faith, just like my bosses above me have faith. There is a cure for everything, just as there is an answer."

Jemma opened her mouth to respond, but the shrill of Melinda's phone left her hanging. Melinda picked it up, speaking in her rough, other language just as she had before. She took this as her sign to exit stage right, but as she stood to leave, she was stopped almost as instantly.

Melinda placed a hand over the phone, lowering her voice to a whisper: "You'll find a cure, Jemma. Just like you always do."

Melinda sent her away and as Jemma left the room, she felt less confident about curing this abnormal hunger urge than her boss did.


	5. The Skye is Always...Right. (Chapter Four)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a really fun chapter to write, especially since I am no longer sick! WOO HOO! Hopefully I will be able to update more frequently now.. Fingers crossed! ;) Enjoy!   
> -StarLorki

While no one could break into the K.O.A, people with the right brains and power could steal something easily. Jemma left the old building with the papers that Melinda had trusted her with, the folder sitting and weighing down like lead in the bottom of her bag.

She knew life with a profession such as hers was going to throw some pretty shitty things her way, but she had no idea that it would throw the impossible. Her job was to cure ailments that physically wore down the body, not the soul.

She clutched her bags strap nervously, her foot tapping against the concrete sidewalk impatiently. Her mind was racing as she thought, waiting for the signal to walk across the street. All she wanted to do was go home, take a nice bath and relax - maybe even invite Fitz over for dinner.

Her fingers grasped tighter onto to her strap, her teeth grazing over lower lip. There goes her mind again, wandering into that forsaken zone. It was becoming harder to think about him less, to even stand the thought of him being apart from her, even if it was only for a night.

Despite everything going on in work, her nightmares and her ordinary life, she always found happiness and comfort in being near her best friend, so much so that she was beginning to feel that Skye's accusations were right.

She had feelings for her best friend.

Just as the words entered her mind, the signal changed to a person walking, her cue to cross the street. Her grip lessened, her mind calming down. She placed a foot in the crosswalk, her mind keeping its focus on the excitement of a relaxing evening.

Her mind was so lost within itself that she did not realize the car that had turned the corner, nearly hitting her. Just as the car was about to make contact someone's arm grabbed hold of her own, pulling her out of the vehicle's way.

The sound of the car's horn brought her out of her thoughts, gasping as she fell into the arms of whoever her saver was. Her breathing heavy, she made eye contact with the person that nearly hit her and a sudden chill went up her spine.

That blue eyed, blonde haired man, the one from her nightmare, the one from earlier that day. He stared at her with a glare that made her insides twist, as if he was killing her with his own eyes.

Fingers gripped tightly into a fist, she clamped her jaw shut. Whoever this man was, she felt that he had it out for her.

"Are you okay?" It was the three words she found herself hearing a lot lately, from Skye, Fitz, Melinda. This voice was different, though. Familiar but one she did not hear often.

Turning her head, she found her eyes locking with a set of light, brown eyes.

"Oh shit!" she mumbled, unclenching her hands from the man's shirt. Her face turned a bright shade of red, almost forgetting her near fatal accident.

"I'm so sorry, I was just.. I-I was thinking.." she stuttered, her fingers clenching her strap once again.

The man chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You wouldn't be Simmons if you weren't thinking," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

She nodded her head, swallowing hard as she did. She knew this man like she knew the back of her hand, but she couldn't help but feel intimidated by him. It wasn't in a negative sort of sense, either. He was good looking, tall, dark hair and muscular-the kind of guy that always had girls falling after him. On top of good looks, he was kind, loyal and was one of the only other people that accepted her as an equal.

"Ward!" a voice from across the street called, causing both of their heads to turn. It was a co-worker, pointing to his watch urgently and beckoning him to follow.

Ward rolled his eyes, giving his friend a rude finger gesture and a death glare that penetrated through his skull.

"Hold your ass, can't you see I'm having a conversation?"

The friend returned the gesture, before walking off down the sidewalk. Well, he was kind to most everyone.

"I'm sorry," she replied again, her voice wavering. Something about the entire thing left her uneasy, and it wasn't just the fact that she was almost mowed down by a car, either.

"Hey, no worries. Just.. maybe try checking into the world every once in a while, you never know when you might be walking off the edge of the earth."

His remark made her smile, the first real and genuine smile that crossed her face since she last saw Fitz. It was true, there were very few people that could make her feel this happy, and he was one of them.

Ward patted her shoulder, nearly knocking her flat on her face as he did; "Hey, the guys and I are headed to O'Malley's to grab a drink and Skye will be along shortly as well, care to join us?"

A drink sounded good, though she was more interested in tea than beer at the moment. She sighed, biting her lip again.

"I would, but I have this thing.. It's crazy, Melinda assigned it to me this morning and it has me all.." She gripped at her hair as if to demonstrate her irritation, causing Ward to chuckle.

"Saving the world, one cure at a time. Am I right?" she nodded somberly, lips pressed in a tight line. "Something like that."

His face softened, his expression serious as he looked at her. She averted her eyes quickly, using every ounce of her strength to not indulge on what was bugging her. Only Skye knew about her nightmares, no one, not even Fitz knew about them. She wasn't ready to confide in Ward on releasing this information just yet.

"Go get some rest, Jemma." His words came out softly, as the signal beckoned them to walk again.

She flushed slightly, her voice hoarse: "I'll try."

He began to back his way down the crosswalk, his finger pointed at her accusingly.

"You better, Jemma Simmons. Every hero needs a break."

That sentence stuck with her her whole walk home, leaving nasty, twisting knots in her stomach. She wasn't a hero, she was hardly a good person. No, she had fears, weaknesses and doubts. Hell, she had doubts in joining something as high end as the K.O.A, she wasn't that special. Everyone saw 2 PHD's as a great thing, but she hardly saw anything special. She resided in America, in a ruddy old town that was decaying like a diseased body, her only achievement was getting a job in the first place.

Her parents couldn't ask for more of her, but she felt like she failed them. Most parents wanted kids that did normal, safe things. Instead she did the one thing that kept most parents awake at night, worrying that they will get the call that their only child would have become the new home of a deadly disease.

She sat at her kitchen table, the folder that Melinda had given her was sprawled out across it. Her hand rest on her half empty tea cup, while the other was tangled into her hair.

The images and the words that were written on the pages before her were enough to make her twisting stomach tangle up in even more knots, her mind weighed down on the depressing topic. It was hard to fathom that a person could even stomach such a strange behavioral trait, but it wasn't impossible.

In this sick, cruel and twisted world, any and everything was possible.

She was about to turn the page to another entry about a person going off the deep end, when she slammed the folder shut and sat back in her chair with a loud: "Ugh".

This was impossible, insane. What more could these people expect of her? She was a Biochemist, a normal person, not some god with the answer to every known ailment in the human body.

You could ask her to cure cancer, diabetes or even the common cold. But cannibalism? You'd be better off asking a germ freak to take her place.

Officially frustrated, she yanked out her cell phone and dialed the first number she could think of. As the phone rang, she traced her free finger around the rim of her tea cup, chewing on her lower lip. There was no guarantee he would answer, for it was Wednesday and Wednesday nights were reserved specifically for him and his mum. It warmed her heart to know that yes, even a full grown guy would go out of his way to take care of his mum.

She was almost ready to hang up when a crack from the other end stopped her, followed by a voice answering: "Hullo?"

She couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips, as she rested her head against her hand.

"Oh thank God, I thought I was going to go insane!" She listened as he shifted the phone, a loud noise wailing from the other end nearly pierced her head.

"Ah, Jemma? Is something... Mum, will you turn that down!" Fitz hollered, before the wailing calmed down a bit. "Sorry about that, she's watching another old movie again." "Gone with the Wind?"

There was an exasperated sigh on the other end, as she envisioned him running a hand through his mess of curls. The thought made her stomach flutter, as she wondered what it would be like to roam her fingers through...bloody hell.

"What else?" he questioned, interrupting her embarrassing thoughts. Despite what she just did, she felt a smile spread across her face.

"Your mom is so cute, like a hopeless romantic!"

Fitz scoffed quietly, grumbling under his breath.

"Yeah well, hopeless is what she has been ever since dad left."

Jemma swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. Fitz hardly ever brought up his dad and when he did, it was always about how he left. It broke his mom, but Fitz kept her strong. She imagined that if it wasn't for him, she probably wouldn't be the woman she is today.

She drew her lip in again, her fingers clutching hard onto the phone. Her heart was beating hard against her ribcage, her mind racing. She knew what was eating at her, it had been flitting through her mind all day.

Her.

Fitz.

Dinner.

How hard could it be to ask a simple question?

"Will you have dinner with me?" Her mind screamed the sentence over and over, but somehow she could not bring herself to ask it. He could say yes, but there was the huge possibility he would reject her. What would become of them then?

"Jemma? Are you there?" she could hear his fingers drumming on the wall, a sign that he was concerned.

"Do you know Casey?" Her mind yelled at her for falling off topic, but she was grateful for something else to discuss.

"Ah yeah, he started working about two weeks ago, I believe. Kind of quiet, almost nervous kind of bloke?"

Jemma nodded, as if he could hear her head rattling from the other end. "He almost hit me with his car today, I wasn't watching where I was going again.."

There was dead silence on the other end and it stayed that way for a few moments, making her wonder if the call had gotten lost. She was about to open her mouth to speak, but Fitz had done so for her.

"Jemma, are you okay?"

Of course he knew that something was bothering her. She cursed internally, releasing a heavy sigh. She could no longer keep it hidden from him, so she let spill. She told him everything about the moment Casey handed her the folder, to just a few moments ago, where she was reading the files.

She contemplated throwing in her nightmares and how Casey was in one of them, but she decided against it. It was just a bad dream, what harm would there be in keeping it bottled up?

Besides, there were pieces that made no sense. Like what the hell was shield and who the hell was this John Garrett?

"Bloody," he whispered, she could hear his fingers drumming again. "What the hell do they expect you to do with that?"

She shrugged her shoulders, picking at a corner of the folder. "Beats me, I thought it was originally a prank. I mean, how do you cure a mental illness of this level? Is it even possible?"

"I don't know, but I do know one thing; if there is a cure, you will find it."

Her cheeks flushed red, her heart picking up speed and pounding again. Her mind reverted back to her original reason for calling and suddenly her breathing became rigid.

"Oh, I-I seriously doubt that.." "Don't lie, you're the real genius."

Her tongue became tied, her mind no longer able to conjure up real sentences. Every hard working aspect of her mind flew out the window at the drop of a hat, leaving her to to sit there with her mouth hanging open.

Say something, dammit. Anything.

"Oh bloody, Jemma I'm going to have to let you go, mum's dog is trying to.. DESMOND DO NOT PISH ON THE COUCH!"

The call ended immediately after that, her knowing good and well that Desmond, being an old dog, had the tendency to take a bathroom break wherever he found convenient. This left her to stare at the screen with Fitz's and her picture of their first Christmas together. Neither one of them had gotten the memo of an ugly sweater competition, so both came dressed up and were the sore thumbs sticking out in a mix of red and green hideous sweaters.

While it was an awkward time, Jemma remembered distinctly enjoying the entire thing purely because Fitz was there with her. Every day she woke up, this was her returning thought. What if he hadn't gone with her to this run down, beat up town in lonely Colorado?

It was this thought that made her finally realize that Skye was right.

She was in love with her best friend.


End file.
